


Rest In The After

by JahStorybook



Series: Point Man's Name [2]
Category: F.E.A.R. (Video Games)
Genre: Come Inflation, Filth, M/M, Pregnancy Kink, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JahStorybook/pseuds/JahStorybook
Summary: The situation with Alma has been taken care of. All Point Man wants is to relax, rest, shut his eyes and drift. Paxton had other plans.
Relationships: Paxton Fettel/Point Man (F.E.A.R.)
Series: Point Man's Name [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815439
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Rest In The After

The world was theirs. Alma had given birth to a third child; this one small and wrinkly and entirely hers. She’d held it, her eyes full of tears of joy and pain. When she looked up and noticed them, really noticed them, she had spoken only briefly. Not words of thanks for delivering the baby or not killing her, but the Point Man’s name, the one they never gave him.

“Nathan,” she whispered, before kissing each of her boys on the head and disappearing with the baby. 

Fettel and his brother had shared a glance, neither of them having expected her to survive. The world was, for the most part, still alive. It was more than anyone could have hoped for, if he was being honest with himself.

And it was all theirs. The city, the country, all of it if they so choose. They could do anything they wanted to now, perhaps with the exception of living in Fettel’s case. If only one of them didn’t have such a hard time leading a life without purpose, without objective. 

Fettel had watched him fall apart more and more with each day. He let it drone on for maybe a week before suggesting he do something about the remainder of Armachan. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. They both chose to disregard Point’s ungiven name, on the basis that it simply wasn’t who he’d turned out to be. Point Man was good enough for him, and that was good enough for Fettel.

* * *

They were resting, his brother laying in a real bed for once. Fettel watched in mild boredom, not having realized that he was related to someone so dull. Outside of the killing and maiming and just in general shooting, Point seemed almost… sad.

“You haven’t needed rest in many years, brother. Are you suddenly so weak that you had to sleep this instant?” As uneventful as it was, he did like the breaking and entering part. Though, the hotel was abandoned, so who was there to complain, really?

His brother, who had been ignoring him a little less recently, didn’t look up but rolled onto his stomach, leaving a space, perhaps unintentionally, for Fettel. 

“Do you want a cuddle? You could have just asked,” he said, voice deep and distant, even to his own ears. He sat down on the side of the bed, watching his brother try to find a moment's peace. 

He knew there wasn’t such a thing. Not for them. Where Fettel drew his energy from their mother and blood, his brother seemed to have been altered in his early years to simply go without. He’d been altered in a few ways like that.

“Why don’t you try removing some of your clothes,” he suggested, not expecting a reaction. When his brother tugged his shirt off, barely lifting off the bed, he was pleased. While he may pretend he didn’t listen, there were things Fettel could demand that he’d do in an instant. They were still exploring the depth of this small fact.

“The pants, too.” Shooting him a glare, the Point Man kicked his shoes off and sat up, facing away from Fettel while he undressed. How desperate was he for a few blissful moments of shut eye that he would so obediently follow orders?

He watched hungrily as Point Man laid back down, now wearing nothing whatsoever. His ass was on display for the whole world, or in this case Fettel, to see. Memories so delicious filled his head, and he reached out, running a hand up the muscular thigh closest to him.

A small twitch under his hand was the only sign that the Point Man even felt him.

“You won’t find rest, brother. We may as well take this brief reprieve to enjoy ourselves.” Not that he found a break from being shot at to be so bad, but the least they could do was have some fun.

He got no direct answer, but his brother turned his head to face the opposite wall. Fettel’s eyes narrowed, quite annoyed at the blatant refusal to acknowledge him. 

“Are you angry with me, brother?” Anger was such a strong emotion, such a delicious taste it left in his mouth- almost as good as fear- but not one he felt like humoring at the time.

“Don’t be so childish, I’ll be gentle.” His hand slipped up to cup his brother’s exposed cheeks, rubbing a circle and grasping one tightly. His own dick twitched in response to the way his brother’s legs spread for him. 

He could tell it’d been an accident, an impulsive and instinctive move at being touched. It didn’t stop him from crawling between those legs and running his hands up and down them, his eyes raking over every scar as he rested on his knees. The desire to create new marks, darker ones, was held at bay only by his promise to be gentle.

Which he was, oh so gentle. While he leaned over and ran his tongue slowly up the length of his brother’s spine, hands caging him in at his waist, he was teasingly soft, slow. The Point Man reacted much as he had the first time. With pleasant surprise and confusion. 

“One day you will not be so blind, so lost,” Fettel promised, and he found himself hoping he was right. The life they deserved was gone, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy. After all, even Mother had gotten what she wanted after a lifetime of waiting. 

Fettel, suddenly feeling quite passionate, stopped playing and shut his eyes. There were things he could summon, create. Things that would bring such pleasure to them both. 

Starting with the same hellish tentacles his mother so favored. They came out of the bed from pits of black smoke, beautiful things, startling his brother into action.

He tried to throw his arm out, reaching for the end of the bed where his rifle sat waiting propped on the floor. Fettel stopped him, slowly dragging his arm back above his head.

“Just relax. They won’t hurt you,” he whispered. Not so long as they obeyed the one pulling their strings. And they would, down to every slight carass. More than gentle, they were careful.

Careful not to frighten, to put off.

Paxton had never used them for this before, had never used them beyond the sole purpose of inspiring fear in others. Now, he didn’t want to inspire fear, he wanted to inspire trust, and that same glassy eyes look of ecstasy in his brother’s eyes from that first time.

Point’s reaction was more subdued when he knew no harm would come from just touching them, or from being held. He still jerked back in surprise when Fettel wrapped one around his leg.

“Easy,” he cautioned, rolling his brother over. Fettel refused to deny that fear was something he found attractive, arousing, but the level of lust in Point’s face and the- dare he say- love was intoxicating.

It was the only affirmation he needed. Point Man gasped when it started to fill him up. The hot liquid it left behind was Fettel’s, and when he felt he was deep enough, the tentacle started to pump.

It was fast at first, leaking out of him, but slowed just as his stomach started to expand a little, creating a little bump, barely noticeable. Fettel watched him grasp the sheets, mouth open in silent pleasure. 

“Do you want more,” he asked, letting the hose-like appendage start to slip out. No answer, as usual, but his brother nodded desperately. He stopped, letting the tendril shove back in, still pumping his hot come.

He seemed to like that, hips twisting off the bed as he futilely tried pulling his legs free. Fettel knew he wanted to touch, to feel, the satisfying growth of his abdomen. 

His writhing created more friction, causing his eyes to widen as he jerked forward in ecstasy. He was so deliciously close that Fettel slowed down, just to torment him further.

“Maybe I’ll make you as big as Mother was with child. Maybe I’ll swell you up so much that even this useless sterile semen will lay way for a child of our own.” It didn’t escape his notice what that line of thought did to his brother, how it excited him. He wondered which part, the teasing, or the prospect of carrying Fettel’s child.

"I think that's probably good," he said, noting the bump, no bigger than an apple, just above his brother's pelvis. The appendage he'd summoned disappeared, and he filled its place with his ready cock. His brother winced.

_Too much._

He laughed, rocking forward and feeling the thick embrace of his own spent cum trying to leak back out. 

“Oh don’t be so sure, brother. I think you can hold just a bit more.” Even if it pushed the limits of his already trembling body. Fettel could see the faint red glow swirling through his stomach, spreading up and down, and all the way to his neck.

His brother’s body wasn't made for the darkness quite like the rest of the family, but that wouldn’t stop Fettel from taking it in every way he could. And such an eager body it was.

The demonic whispers of their psychic link grew much louder as Fettel neared his climax, hands curling tightly into the flesh of the Point Man’s thighs. He didn’t have to bury himself so deep, so completely, when he finally felt sweet release tugging him down, but he did anyway. 

His brother reached up, gripping his sleeves as he was pressed full of everything Fettel had. It was one of the very few times Point had initiated contact and the sensation rocked him back, control disappearing. 

He didn’t mean to lose himself, to start thrusting so blindly into the hot mess he’d made. Point winced, shaking his head as Fettel disolved into crazed, almost rabid attacking. His whole being seemed to be working against him, mind screaming for more friction, more contact. 

Or was that his brother’s mind, screaming for less?

* * *

Waking up was the most surreal experience of his life. Fettel pushed himself up, panicking, only to find his brother naked and unconscious, lying half under him. Looking around, he found the room badly burnt, smelling of blood and fire and ruin. 

When he looked back down, his brother’s eyes were half open. Expecting to be thrown off, Fettel was more than surprised when Point Man shut them, turning slightly with a soft grunt. He was asleep again, or at least resting. 

Fettel got off him, eyes darting around as he shook off the disturbing drowsiness he’d succumbed to. It’d been years since he slept. Years before he’d even died. Whatever had taken hold of him had been powerful, more so than him, but they’d done nothing to harm either of them. Right?

He rolled his brother onto his side and then back, just to be sure. Other than the stickiness of his cum still dripping out, he looked fine. For someone who’d been so entirely debauched just hours ago, that is.

Briefly, he entertained the thought that perhaps it’d been his brother who’d taken over his mind, as silly as that was. If not him, though, that really only left Fettel himself. Fettel who seemed to have hurt the Point man after losing himself, he realized as he noticed the bruise his hand had left and the swirling dark lines snaking up those abused legs left behind by his power.

No, he’d much rather think the momentary loss of control had been someone else’s doing than his own. Even if he preferred chaos and pain, he had chosen to abstain for one night and stuck to his word. The thought that his core, his nature, would refuse him that promise was simply too much.

He slipped behind Point, falling to his back with no noise. He’d promised. He’d promised to be gentle and he’d lost control, right at the last second. He wasn’t sure what had happened after blacking out, but somehow Point had come to harm. 

He’d make it up to him, in his own way.


End file.
